Checkmate
by Cookie-chi
Summary: When Kristoph invites Apollo for a game of chess after work he thinks little of it and accepts. If only he knew what Kristoph was capable of, if only he knew the power of one simple game, and the weakness of his own mind. Krispollo-esque. Pre-AJ


"Stopping late are we, Justice?"

That calm and mellifluous voice, with a slight hint of amusement stirred Apollo out of his frantic typing, looking up to his mentor Apollo blinked languidly, what time was it even? He suddenly sat up with a far more rigid posture before addressing Kristoph.

"Oh! Uh, guess I lost track of time." He answered sheepishly, eliciting a low chuckle from the blond.

"It's quite all right, I'm happy to employ such a hard worker."

"Thank you Sir." Apollo's chest puffed out slightly at the compliment. He had only been working for Kristoph for a few month nows, but he was happy to know he was making a good impression. He watched as the coolest defence in the West pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's a Friday night Justice, don't you have somewhere fun to be?"

Apollo was a little caught off by the question, sure Kristoph was nice enough, but he tended to avoid engaging in meaningless pleasantries such as this, the brunet let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck "Not really, It's been a long day so I'll probably just go home and relax." He certainly didn't plan on staying in the office all night, and soon began to pack up his things and get ready for the trek home.

He barely noticed Kristoph slowly pace over, not until a firm hand was on his shoulder. The poor attorney almost jumped out of his skin at the contact. "Say, Justice..do you like chess?"

Chess?

"As in, the board game?"

Kristoph seemed amused by this, though it was only evident by the slightest twitch of his lip. "Yes, I happen to enjoy a game myself. It's also very good at sharpening the mind, perhaps if you are not too busy, you'd like to have a game before you leave?"

Well, he didn't have any plans, and a game of chess might be a good way to get into the boss' good books and find out a little bit more about the man he worked for. Apollo hadn't played since he was a child, but he remembered the rules of each piece. How onerous could it be? "Sure, why not."

Little did he know how much he would regret that decision.

"Sehr Gut." Kristoph smiled, "Come with me."

Apollo obeyed, stepping away from his desk he followed through the large mahogany doors of his mentor's office. Apollo had seldom entered Kristoph's office, save for bringing him a coffee or a few papers, but for the majority of the day Kristoph was either at the courthouse or locked away in here on his own.

It was the type of office that resonated grandeur, with bookshelves filled to the brim that reached all the way to the high ceilings, not a family portrait in sight, the only things to decorate the walls were a landscape paining and Kristoph's academic certificates. Apollo also noted the oddly shaped bottle of nail varnish on the desk and a pack of cards.

His eyes moved over to the chess table next, classic marble, with solid ivory pieces opposing the black.

"Please, sit."

Apollo followed suit, sitting at one end of the chess table, in front of the white pieces.

"Since it's the weekend, perhaps we should celebrate, live a little dangerously?"

Apollo raised his head curiously, Kristoph didn't seem the risk taking type, but then what did Apollo know? He'd only been working here a few months. "What do you mean?" He asked, watching the blonde open another cupboard, filled with expensive looking liquor. He took one bottle, holding the neck and cradling the underside almost lovingly, like a mother with it's newborn.

"Do you enjoy whiskey, Justice?"

Honestly? Apollo had never really had much of a taste for any alcohol, most of it was too bitter for his liking, but right now it seemed incredibly rude to say no. "I…I don't know, I've never had whiskey." Well, it wasn't a lie.

"Ah, then you must try this, it's been aged for 64 years, in fact, there are only 3 bottles of this particular whiskey in the world, the last one is retailing for around $100,000 I believe."

Apollo practically chocked on the air. Why on earth would Kristoph want to share something so valuable with Apollo? Surely it should be saved, and if it were to be drunk, surely only by connoisseurs who could appreciate the taste! "Oh, no! I couldn't! It's too expensive!" Apollo insisted, flailing his arms.

"Silence, Justice, I insist."

Kristoph had his back to Apollo as he poured the drinks, the brunet couldn't see exactly what was going on, but Kristoph seemed to be pouring a lot, for just the two of them. The blond was soon rolling a side table over to the chess board, the bottle of whiskey was empty, replaced by 32 shots. 16 on Apollo's side, 16 on Kristoph's. Apollo's face turned a whiter shade of pale as Kristoph took a seat opposite him.

"It's quite simple Justice, we'll play as normal, only whenever I capture one of your pieces you must drink a measure of whiskey, and vice versa, understood?"

Never in a million years did he think Kristoph was into $100,000 drinking games, but too stunned to say anything more he simply nodded and tried to close his agape mouth that hung in astonishment.

"Gut, now, your move. White always moves first."

"R-Right!" Apollo already felt nervous and they hadn't even begun, would he drop a piece or pass out from alcohol consumption? His palms sweated as he took the first pawn, why was he so nervous? It was just a game! But it felt like no ordinary game, more like the eyes of his mentor were boring into the back of his palm. It was intimidating, to say the least.

"Kristoph?"

"Mn?"

Apollo made his move, setting down the first pawn. Nothing had been spilled or broken in his movement and Apollo felt himself breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"I was wondering, why chess?"

Kristoph smiled, less hesitant in his moves the first black pawn slid over the table with ease and grace. "Because I enjoy it, chess involves thought, strategy. You cannot win simply by being lucky, don't you agree?"

"I do…" Apollo slowly relaxed, he makes his move, but despite Kristoph's remarks about strategy he is quick, too quick to place the piece down, and Kristoph knows he can easily ensnare that little pawn. "Though it makes me curious about the pack of cards on your table."

"Ah, you saw those? Very perceptive, Justice."

"What card games do you play?"

"Poker."

Apollo was intrigued, a few more pieces moved about the board. "But, isn't poker about luck?"

A laugh broke the silence, the low humming sort of laugh that made one's throat vibrate. Perhaps it was from the question, or the fact Kristoph had captured one of Apollo's pieces. "No, it's not. Think about it. Of course the first hand it possibly difficult to decipher, but as the game continues you can have a good understanding of what's in your opponents hand based on the cards already played. Or, you could just watch their body language, their expressions to determine the truth."

"But isn't that why people have a 'poker face'?"

Kristoph pushed the first measure of Whiskey into Apollo's hand, the brunet already felt a lump in his throat, the whiskey smelling phenolic and earthy and quite frankly Apollo didn't want to drink it. But he must.

"Some people have a 'gift' that allows them to see past such a façade, Justice. It's really quite troublesome for anyone who goes in blindly believing winning is simply luck. However, I still prefer chess, it's simplistic and classic, you can see my hand, I can see yours, the only thing in it is logic. Now, drink."

Apollo nodded before quickly knocking back the shot, it burns his throat and he can't help thinking such an expensive drink should have been sipped and swirled and smelt and _appreciated_. But it isn't, Apollo instantly dislikes the taste.

He put the empty shot down, and the smile of what Apollo can only describe as the devil's is on Kristoph's lips, he tuts.

"Oh Justice, there was _one _thing I failed to mention to you before we began to play."

Apollo raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"Two of the shots, one on my side, and one on your side, are laced with a lethal poison."

Apollo almost hears the thud, a jarring thud like his heart is trying to jump from his chest, thank god he was sitting down otherwise he would have crumpled into a shaking heap. Instead, his eyes are wide and quivering, as is his lower lip which still tingles with the potency of the whiskey. Kristoph can see his subordinates' face depleting of colour.

"Wh…wh…..what?" His chords of steel are more of a whisper, he was almost afraid to shout to loud, the idea of drinking poison was too terrifying to voice.

"You're joking..right?"

Kirstoph smiled, so eerily serene as his long fingers brushed a few locks of golden hair back.

"I said poison, Justice, and I can assure you it's no joke. Just think of it as Russian roulette, with a more strategic twist. If you can out-wit me in chess, you're chances of surviving increase, if you fall, your survival chances will as well."

Apollo's throat dried up, how could Kristoph even say something so menacing with such calmness?

"Come, its your move." Kristoph replied curtly, a small hint of agitation in his voice from the way Apollo seemed unable to move and thus pausing their game, the blond had little time to tend to Apollo's crippling fear.

Apollo on the other hand had little time to disobey, his swallowed down his nerves, all he needed to do was win…but then, he could end up killing Kristoph. He couldn't do that! But..Kristoph had no reservations, so why should he? Why here his hands so clammy and trembling and not forcefully picking up the next piece to stop his boss killing him?!

Maybe it was too late anyway, what if that shot he'd just consumed been the poisoned one?! Apollo brought his hand up to his neck, what if that burning feeling in his throat wasn't alcohol at all? What if it was the poison's work? This could be it, life could be ebbing away as he looked into the fake glow of Kristoph's eyes…The room was spinning, the air felt hot and suffocating around him.

"Justice_. Your move."_

Apollo ignored the fear and nausea for a moment to finally move his next piece, pushing it over the board like it was a dead weight, his breathing ragged and shoulders hunched over like he'd just ran a marathon when he finally finished moving the piece. This wasn't 'simplistic' chess any more, this was a war and blood would be shed.

Kristoph was definitely the more experienced of the two, as soon as he captured another pawn Apollo was already mouthing 'No', again, then again…but it was pointless. He had to drink, he had to spin the cylinder and hope the bullet didn't hit. Kristoph watched with a deep fascination as Apollo brought the glass to his lips.

"Please…can we stop? This isn't funny…." His voice would of sounded angry had fear not swept over all that.

"You're right, its deadly serious, but we must continue."

Apollo snapped. This was crazy, _insane_. Why was he taking orders like this?! Kristoph was his boss, but he wasn't some God who could force Apollo into gambling with his own life! With that thought Apollo slammed the shot glass down on the table and stood.

"I'm leaving."

Kristoph stood in sync, but with a sharp and fluid reflex his hand delved into an inside pocket, a flash reflected off the metal surface of the gun now in his hand, a gun then aimed at Apollo's forehead. In the blink of an eye the brunet's face had gone from colourless to waxy and sickly as he looked on in aghast horror.

"No. You're not." Kristoph replied as he shook his head, and lowered the gun, letting the tip of the barrel slide down Apollo's cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "Let's not have to end this in such a quick and messy fashion. I must admit, I am enjoying spending this time with you, I'd hate for it to have to end so quickly…"

Apollo had never been so confused in his entire life, there was such a sweetness in Kristoph's eyes that he could almost romanticise this moment, he could almost imagine the tip of the gun being his mentors fingertip gliding tenderly over his porcelain skin.. "But…._why…._"

Why did they have to play this awful game? Why was Kristoph getting such an enjoyment from it?

"Please, sit." He asked so kindly that Apollo felt his leaden legs dropping back down as he obeyed. Kristoph did the same as he pocketed the gun. "Very good, now, continue."

By the time Apollo held that glass up to his lips again his shoulders were visibly shaking, and Kristoph couldn't help thinking how beautiful his subordinate looked with the glimmer that shone in the tears pricking his eyes. Apollo looked as though he couldn't even open his mouth, natural instinct repressing the idea of drinking something potentially lethal. But when Apollo looked up and saw an almost loving look in the blond's eyes he was captivated for that moment. No one had ever looked at him like that before, like he was beautiful and precious. Kristoph didn't need to say it, Apollo could see. So..slowly, his lips parted, another shot was swallowed as the attorney silently prayed to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in.

The game continued and Apollo was glad it was alcohol that they were using, the more he consumed the more relaxed he began to feel, there would be some fleeting seconds where he'd completely forget the lethal element of their game. There were moments of relatively normal conversation, and even little compliments that made Apollo's heart flutter. Kristoph was sure to point out when he saw Apollo's strategy improving as they moved across the board in a deadly dance. And finally…_finally_, Apollo caught one of Kristoph's pieces.

There was a silence, it felt surreal to Apollo that he had managed such a thing…but instead of looking terrified like Apollo had been for every piece he'd lost, Kristoph seemed content, proud even.

"Well done, you certainly are learning quickly." He smiled. Apollo, for once, actually smiled back, his mentor's praise was all he ever wanted.

"Thank you…"

It was Apollo's turn to watch with a morbid curiosity and a sense of wonder as Kristoph brought one of the shots to his lips, they didn't quiver like they ought to, Apollo could be sending him to his death after all.

It began to make Apollo think.

If Kristoph were to go, who would he have left? There would be no one to guide him through the treacherous path of life, no one to teach him, to look at him with those loving eyes, even if that love was fake and just the figment of Apollo's imagination. To Apollo that romanticism felt real.

Maybe losing the game would be better than losing Kristoph.

But…maybe that warm smile belonged to the devil, he had asked Apollo to play such a sinister game after all, he had asked Apollo to risk his life, as if his life were of such small value.

"Wait!"

Kristoph paused, opening his eyes to gaze over the table. "What is it?"

"How….how can I trust you?"

"Hm?"

"How do I know one of you glasses is poisoned too?"

Again, there was no malice in Kristoph's expression, just pride as he put the cup down. "So clever, Justice, I don't blame you for doubting me. So here.." He put the shot down, and instead, picked up one of the one's on Apollo's side. Silently, he drank it, and Apollo was memorised. Kristoph was brave and unwavering, inspiring to a vulnerable mind like Apollo's was now.

And Kristoph knew it, he knew he could mould Apollo, under the influence of alcohol, fear and admiration he had complete control. "You see? You can trust me, now…let's continue."

The game seemed to go too quickly for Apollo, as much as he didn't want to lose Kristoph he certainly didn't want to die either, but with every 'click' of a chess piece being placed down he felt that it was ticking down the last moments of his life. He could feel the sweat on his brow, on his palms, Kristoph's sweet melodic tone telling him to calm down every time he had to drink.

At one point Kristoph had to come over and kneel at Apollo's side, wiping away his tears as he held one of the shots and cried, cried with a horrible wailing noise thanks to his intoxication by this point. The blond was like a parental figure, hushing Apollo gently, rubbing his shoulder as fresh tears marred the attorney's cheek. Why was Kristoph being so kind and cold at the same time? Apollo had never felt more torn and confused but none of that really mattered when he thought for sure he was dying tonight. So far Kristoph had only had to drink twice.

"There you go…very good Justice.." He purred as another shot made it's way down Apollo's throat. As soon as he finished it he cried more. Screaming.

"Why?!"

"You'll see." Kristoph rubbed his back gently, and right then Apollo was so emotionally exhausted the rhythmic action could very well put him to sleep. If only the anxiety didn't kick in

(Maybe that drowsiness is the poison, maybe I'm dying, maybe this is it, will Kristoph hold me while I die? Or will he leave me? I don't want to be alone..)

Apollo felt trapped, no longer in control of his mind nor the pieces on the board. His intoxication made strategy near impossible, he was clearly upset and frustrated that his form was failing, not only because it may very well end his life, but for once Kristoph had been _proud _of him, and now that was slipping away.

He was finally trapped by Kristoph on the board as the elder moved his piece to block Apollo's king, before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Checkmate."

It was just one word, but so ominous it made Apollo feel sick. Or maybe that was the alcohol, either way this was it, he had lost. He put a hand to his mouth as the terror brimmed in his eyes and his stomach churned violently.

"Are you going to be sick, Justice?"

Kristoph actually sounded _concerned, _Apollo would question why he had no qualms over killing him yet was concerned that he felt ill, but he didn't have time, instead nodding his head.

Silently Kristoph got up, walking Apollo to the bathroom where he suddenly fell forwards, hunching over the toilet and gripping sides tightly as his stomach rid itself of all contents. The blond rubbed Apollo's hair, his back, gently soothing him as he had done during the game.

"There there, perhaps you will even be lucky enough to rid yourself of any poison.."

That, just seemed to make Apollo hurl harder, until his stomach muscles ached and his throat felt like it had been cut from the inside. Finally it stopped, he took a few deep breaths, sitting on the bathroom floor in a daze as Kristoph wiped his nose and mouth, and dabbed away the sweat. "Come now, we must still finish the game."

Apollo was shaking his head over and over, hugging himself as he sat on the floor and cried. "I can't…I can't, no..I can't..no..no…please…"

Kristoph took the moment to put his arms around Apollo, not for the kindness Apollo mistook it as, but simply to help him back on his feet and walk him back over to the chess table. That room was so terrifying Apollo could only whimper as he was led back, but in the haze of inebriation and lack of will he didn't fight back.

Kristoph had made it impossible for any of Apollo's last pieces to move without being ensnared, so he still had three shots left. Kristoph insisted the only way to finish the game would be for Apollo to drink them all. In the thick haze he finally did so, looking deep into Kristoph's eyes as he took those last sips, like acid on his tongue, upsetting his already weak stomach and sore throat.

It was done. The game was over.

"That….that's it…I'm dying…"

The words rolled off his tongue with such disbelief, the only thing to break the foreboding silence as Apollo contemplated his final moments was Kristoph's laughter. It was deep and dark, sparking a aghast curiosity in Apollo's once lacklustre eyes.

"Not necessarily…"

Apollo didn't understand, he moved his lips to try and form the words to ask, but he couldn't quite manage. Nevertheless, Kristoph could read his expression, and answered.

"Well, we did swap one shot, didn't we? Perhaps that was the deadly one. Perhaps it was your first shot..I never did tell you how long it takes for the poison to kick in, did I?"

That only made the fear in the pit of Apollo's stomach swell when he thought about it. He had gone into this so blindly, he didn't even think to ask a question like that. But it made Apollo terrified for a different reason too…he didn't want Kristoph to die. Despite everything Kristoph had done he had a hold over Apollo that the brunet couldn't even comprehend, but it was captivating, it was what Apollo knew and what he was afraid to lose.

"Or maybe you'll be all right, you did throw up after all…."

That was true. Perhaps there was hope.

"Or. Perhaps I lied."

Apollo's heart felt like it stopped as he slowly processed Kristoph's last statement.

"L…lied?"

Kristoph got out of his seat, leaving the room for a few moments to fetch a bottle of water, kneeling by his subordinate again he gave him the bottle. "You can trust me with this, it's still sealed after all."

Apollo was more than confused now. "Why?"

"Because you've had far too much to drink tonight, you need some water so you're not ill in the morning."

He couldn't fathom why Kristoph was taking care of him, when he'd been the one to point the gun, to force the liquor down his sobbing throat, but by this point he was willing to lap up any offering of kindness he could get. Though his question still lingered. Why would Kristoph care about his health in the morning if he was dying tonight? Kristoph must have really lied.

"No. Not that..why, why…did you lie?"

"I'm sorry Apollo, but I had to lie." Kristoph ran his fingers through Apollo's hair, the action felt so nice Apollo couldn't help put close his eyes and let a small, contented hum escape his lips. Though his heart felt broken having being lied to, Kristoph was still being attentive in his twisted way, that was something at least.

"There was never any poison, do you think I would do something as illogical as to risk my own life? I wanted you to see the lie..but from your reaction it's clear you didn't. Such a shame."

He had failed Kristoph, that seemed even more crushing than having been lied to, even worse than the emotional torture of tonight. He bit his lips to repress more sobs. All this pain and fear had been unfounded and yet failing Kristoph hurt even more.

The elder leaned close to the shell of Apollo's ear, his breath was warm, it had the slightest smell of whiskey from the two shots he'd taken. "I believe you have a gift Justice, you notice the little things in people others don't, I know you saw something when I lied to you, didn't you?"

"I…I did?" What was he even talking about? Was it perhaps that little twitch he'd paid little heed to at the time? "Your hand….your hand…." He mumbled, fighting a battle between the need of sleep and his heavy inebriation.

"Yes. Well done Justice, you saw it. It's just a shame you didn't know what it meant, but don't worry…I plan to hone that power, I will make you into a great man, and a renowned attorney."

"Mhn…" He was still so tenderly stroking Apollo's hair. Despite the games, the threats, the coldness and intent of the devil within Kristoph, Apollo managed to smile.

…

"Thank you."

Kristoph silently helped Apollo to his feet, as he still clutched the small bottle of water.

"It's late, let me take you home, you're in no fit state to go alone."

"Nh…yes…thank you…"

With that they left, they left the chessboard in disarray, the shot glasses empty. The only thing full was the power Kristoph had of the man he helped out of the door and into the car. Looking over at Apollo from time to time as he dozed in the passenger seat, it was hard to tell of the trauma he had endured, he looked so sweet and subdued in sleep, he looked happy, and would no doubt be easily molded into the most perfect tool.

Apollo was trapped in the spell, he was the King cornered at the edge of the board, to be demoted to a pawn, and no amount of defense or escape was possible against the coolest defense in the west.

Kristoph had to laugh.

"Checkmate indeed."


End file.
